Tis The Season
by Artemis Day
Summary: It was the twenty third day in the month of December. Loki Odinson spent it, as he had spent many days since the end of the Midgardian giving of thanks, traversing a rather peculiar battlefield. Lokane.


**A/N:** **I wrote this last year for my tumblr followers, but only now did I think to go back, revise it, and post it to my main accounts.**

 **So this is my obligatory Christmas Lokane fic, previously titled, 'A Very Lokane Christmas.' For those of you who read it last year, I hope you like it better now that I've finally gone back and corrected all those embarrassing mistakes from the first time around. Those of you who haven't read it, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

It was the twenty third day in the month of December. Loki Odinson spent it, as he had spent many days since the end of the Midgardian giving of thanks, traversing a rather peculiar battlefield.

It was not the same kind he knew from his youth. This was no war, and the people around him were not warriors by any stretch of the imagination, but were it not for the setting and their attire, one would be hard pressed to find the difference. Since entering the toy shop, he had encountered two snarling women engaged a tug-of-war over a doll in an ice blue dress. Three repugnant looking men argued loudly over a gaming system while their equally repugnant children absorbed themselves in their handheld devices. A balding man with watery eyes and a long brown raincoat stood with his back to Loki, clutching the brightly colored box the prince's arm was still outstretched to take. That the little man had been able to swoop in and grab it was a testament to how abrasively noisy this 'shopping mall; really was. It was messing with Loki's finely honed senses. He couldn't wait to get out of this infernal place.

First, he had a job to do.

"Pardon me, my good man," Loki said, politely. "but I believe I was going to take that."

The man in the raincoat looked up, eyeing Loki over his glasses (quite a feat since Loki had at least a foot on him).

"I got it first, pal," he drawled.

Loki's face broke into a smile. "Perhaps, but you see, I was just about to reach for it myself, and had you not jumped in front of me, I would have been the one to take it. Now, I would be happy to forgive this slight, if you would kindly hand the toy over."

Instead of doing that and then begging on his knees for mercy like a sensible man would do, the fellow in the raincoat dropped the cigarette he'd been smoking and blew the smoke in Loki's face.

"Buzz off."

He started to leave, but Loki stopped him with a hand. His fingers dug into the frail mortal's bones. They cracked and snapped as the man gasped in pain. He had to strain to meet Loki's eye, as the smile grew into a horrible grin.

" _Buzz_ off, you say?" Loki chuckled. "What an excellent idea."

Five minutes later, Loki walked to the front of the store, the toy tucked safely under his arm for purchase. He stopped in an aisle that was wall to wall cars and remote control air crafts. All the aisles fed into a closed off play area where the children played while their parents shopped (which is to to say 'fought to the death') for all the holiday goodies they could ask for.

In truth, the appeal of this whole spectacle still eluded Loki, even after several years of celebration. Of course, celebrating for him had mostly consisted of holding the garland for Jane to wind around the tree he uprooted from the forest, but the point remained. It seemed to him like nothing more than an excuse for the Midgardians to spend inordinate amounts of money on useless items their receiver was bound to throw away after a single use, disguised as a day of love and family. He was fairly certain that all of those happy holiday commercials that played during all of those ridiculous films Jane insisted on watching cared far more about the contents of one's wallet than any family.

If he was being very honest, he'd call the whole thing one enormous waste of time.

Regardless, he eyed the dark haired little girl in the corner of the playroom, swinging her favorite purple pony doll through the air to simulate flying, With a warm smile his old friends never would have thought him capable of, Loki stored the toy away for later, and sat back to watch her play.

She still had the milkshake Jane had bought her earlier, and a chubby boy with red, puffy cheeks had been watching it over his action figure. When the girl's head was turned, he made his move, snatching it away like that fool of a man who tried to steal her gift.

The girl looked again and, seeing her treat had been stolen, pointed a finger at the culprit.

"Hey! That's my shake!"

The boy's puffy cheeks were even puffier filled with ill-gotten sweets.

"It's _mine_ now!"

He stood up (how he moved such girth so fast was beyond Loki) and hobbled away, leaving the girl to first tear up, then turn bright red with anger and throw out a hand. Loki felt the clumsy ripple of magic as the plastic cup exploded in the greedy boy's face, spraying him with chocolate and drawing pearls of laughter from the gathered children.

As he ran off, milkshake dripping down his front and crying for his mother, the girl happily ran a brush through her pony doll's pink and purple hair, satisfied in her victory, until-

"Christina Gudrun!"

She dropped the brush and the doll, and got to her feet, as her mother appeared out from a different aisle. Over the two and a half years that she'd been old enough to get into mischief, she must have gotten used to hearing her name shouted like that. Never seemed to make it any less effective. Like when Frigga used to take him by the ear and drag him off for a lecture.

"But Mommy," Christina said, her childishly high voice going even higher, "that boy was mean. He stole my shake!"

"Yes, and that was wrong of him, but we've talked about this before, Christina. You can't use your magic on people like that. Don't forget that Christmas is just around the corner. Santa's watching, and he'll know if you've been bad."

"I'm not bad!" the girl cried, as though missing a visit from a fat, mythical elf was a fate worse than death. "I'm not. I didn't wanna hurt him, I just wanted my shake back."

"Well, you certainly have it back now." Jane drew herself up, surveying the brown splatter that a bored store employee was squeezing into a bucket.

Christina watched too, her face sinking as the treat she had fought for was washed away into dirty mop water. She hung her head, crossed her hands behind her back and kicked out a foot.

"Just wanted my shake…" she mumbled.

Jane sighed. The tinkling of Jingle Bells in her pocket cut her off as she pulled out her phone.

 _'Talk to her,'_ she mouthed to her husband before walking off to take the call.

Christina was huddled away in the corner with her stuffed toy clutched to her chest, Loki dropped to one knee in front of her.

"Now, Christina," he said. "We have talked about this. What did we say about seeking vengeance upon our enemies?"

Christina sniffled and said: "Not when Mommy's watching."

Loki grinned. "That's right. Now, you may go to the register and select one piece of candy."

"Yaaay!" she cheered, running to the candy display.

Loki watched her struggle to make a choice, ensuring that she stuck to his limit of just one, until Jane returned to his side, grim in the face.

"What did you tell her?" she asked.

Loki ignored the accusation laced in her tone.

"I told her she'd been very naughty and I sent her to stand in the corner." He then nodded at the phone in her hand. "Who was it?"

"Erik. He was snowed in last night."

"How tragic," Loki muttered, earning a glare. "I assume from your wording that he has dug his way out."

"Yeah, but that's the problem. It wasn't just him that got snowed in, it was the entire convention that he's speaking at this week. They had to postpone everything until the 24th, which means-"

"Which mean he won't be able to come have dinner with us and play Santa Claus," Loki finished.

For the past four years, ever since Christina was born, Erik Selvig had annually swallowed his pride to put on a big red suit and fake beard, and 'Ho-ho-ho' his heart out, all for the pleasure of one little girl.

"Only for Jane," Loki heard the man grumble one year while straightening his drooping hat. "I'd only do this for Jane and Christina."

"I could retrieve him and bring him home for an hour or so," Loki suggested, walking around to the other side of Jane so that she wouldn't see Christina hand the cashier her dollar for a Hershey Bar.

"I don't think so. You know how Erik feels about magic."

"How he feels about me, more like it," Loki said, and much as she probably wanted to, Jane couldn't argue with that. Selvig had never made a secret of how he felt about their marriage, and for as long as the old man lived, Loki doubted he ever would.

"I wonder if there's time to hire a professional," Jane thought aloud.

"We could just skip the Santa thing this year,"

"No, we can't do that. It's been a tradition in my family since I was her age," said Jane. "We always had Santa Claus come to every Christmas party."

"Why don't we tell her there is no Santa?"

Jane scoffed. "Yeah, sure. I'll just go up to our four year old and say, "Sorry, Christina, Santa's not coming this year because he doesn't exist."

"What?"

A wave of deathly silence came over the pair, that one little word striking them like an arrow in the dark. Christina was just behind Loki, he hadn't even sensed her coming. The brown candy wrapper was clenched in one hand, and the purple pony toy in the other. Her eyes were wobbling, and welling up with tears.

"D-did you say there's no Santa?"

Almost immediately, Jane went into damage control mode.

"No, sweetie, I didn't mean that. Mommy and Daddy were just making a really bad joke. Of course Santa's real-"

"You're lying!" Christina shouted. "I know. I can tell! You're lying and Santa Claus isn't real!"

With a loud wail, she ran to the front of the store, her sobs ringing out long after she was out of sight.

"Oh no," Jane moaned, putting her hands to her head. "What are we going to do now?"

When it looked like she would cry herself, Loki's arms came around her. He pulled her into his strong embrace, his head bowed to her neck.

"First, you're going to go get our girl," he said, "and then you'll keep her busy while I set up a solution to this little problem."

"You think you can do it?"

Loki kissed her neck. "Darling, you know very well all that I can do."

Jane rolled her eyes. His little moments of conceit never failed to get that reaction from her, and he had to admit, that was part of the reason he still did it after all these years.

As Jane went after their daughter, Loki studied the overweight mall Santa Claus in the center of the mall, posing with a young boy in his lap for a picture. Christina had sat there just an hour ago, listing all the toys and goodies she hoped to find under the tree in two days. Loki left the store to get a closer look, while a rather large woman at the register berated a cashier and the store manager.

"I'll tell you, I am never coming to this establishment again! First, my son gets chocolate all over himself because _you_ have no one tending to the children in the playroom. Then I'm almost stung by a bee buzzing around the girls toys! You can bet that I'll be writing a strongly worded letter to the CEO of this company before you can say Yuletide!"

* * *

As the myriad of holiday shoppers passed them by without a care, Jane sat on an empty bench with her daughter, hovering over the girl as she released the last of her tears into her hands. Her legs kicked limply, lacking the fluid energy that always flowed through her with ease. That alone made Jane's heart break.

"Honey, it's okay. Mommy didn't mean it," she said for fifth time.

"Yes, you did," Christina said, also for the fifth time. "I know you did. There is no Santa. I don't wanna talk anymore."

"Oh, Christina…" Jane pulled her daughter in for a hug and pressed a kiss into her hair. She remembered well how she found out that Santa Claus wasn't real, the year he didn't bring her parents home for Christmas. She'd been eight then, maybe a little old to still believe, but she'd held on to the Christmas spirit even after growing up and learning the truth of the world. Christina wasn't even five yet, and she'd have enough to deal with once she was old enough to understand just who and what she was. She was a little girl right now, still an innocent. She _needed_ these happy years.

A wave of sadness sat heavy upon the heads of mother and daughter, until a hearty laugh broke through the gloom, and Jane looked up to see a large, red clothed man with a beard standing over them.

"What do we have here? A sad little girl? We can't have that so close to Christmas!"

A fly could have gone right into Christina's mouth in the first few seconds after 'Santa's' appearance, but amazed as she was, the events of the last hour were not easily forgotten, even for a child.

"You're not Santa," she seemed to crumple into herself. "Santa's fake."

"Ho-ho-ho!" Santa laughed, holding his round jigging belly. "Fake? Why, if I was so fake, how would I know what you want for Christmas, my dear?"

Out from his coat, Santa procured a small pink box. The toy store's tag had been hastily removed, and without the sticker boasting a fifty percent off holiday sale, a yellow and brown pony—designed like the larger pink and purple one she loved so much—smiled in Christina's gawking face.

"Applejack!" Christina jumped out of her seat. "She's the only one I don't have."

With another laugh, Santa lowered the toy into her waiting hands. "I was going to save this for Christmas morning, but I think you should have it now. Merry Christmas, Christina!"

He then almost toppled to the ground when the child launched herself at the large man, holding on with strength befitting a half-Jotunn child.

"You are real!" she cried. "I knew it, I just knew it! Look, Mommy, Santa's really real!"

"I know, I see!" Jane said, unable to stop grinning even when her face started to ache. She certainly knew how the little girl felt. She wanted to hug the life out of Santa herself (and probably a lot more than that).

"Can I go show the other kids at the store?" Christina asked. "Please, Mommy? Please, please, pleeeeeease?"

"Okay, okay!" Jane said over her pleading. "Just go straight there, okay? No detours. Because Daddy and I will know about it."

"I will, Mommy! Bye, Santa! Merry Christmas!"

She scurried away at top speed, a black and purple blur with her toys clutched to her chest. The gloved hand of Santa rested on Jane's back, and together they watched the outside of the store melt away. Before Jane's eyes was only the playroom, where Christina had just found a couple of her friends and was proudly showing off the toy Santa had personally given her. The shock and awe of the other children was the last thing Jane saw before the magic faded and the store came back into focus. She turned to face not Santa, but her husband brushing the remains of white and red off of his black and green ensemble.

"I can't believe I had to do that," he grumbled, but once Jane's arms snaked around his waist and her face burrowed into his chest, he had little more to complain about.

"Actually, I think you look good in red. You should wear it more often."

"I don't think so," Loki said, his voice growing husky. "Not unless I'm very well convinced."

Jane met his gaze with a heavy lidded one of her own, but before she could suggest that they leave a little early, drop Christina off at Darcy's, and spend the rest of the day working on that 'convincing', a large, round shadow fell over the pair, and a jollier guffaw than Loki could ever hope to manage rang out like a bell.

The man behind them was almost an exact clone of Loki's glamour. This Santa was shorter, and wider at the waist. Round glasses covered his eyes, which could hardly be seen anyway thanks to his snow white whiskers and beard.

"Don't mind me," the little man said with a wave of his hand. "I wasn't trying to spoil your moment."

"And who and what are you supposed to be?" Loki spat at him. Though his hold on Jane turned tight and protective, she still managed to lift her mouth to his ear.

"Calm down, it's just the mall Santa." She pulled away as Loki's arms fell slack, and addressed the man. "Don't mind my husband, he gets a little nervous around strangers."

"I do not," Loki said, wishing not for the first time that his wife would cease to talk like he wasn't around (and like he was an ornery child instead of a grown man hundreds of years older than her). "I get _suspicious_ of those who annually dress in the guise of a creature whose main practice is to break into people's homes once a year."

The mall Santa chuckled. "Aha, I can see how you'd feel that way, but I can assure you that your fears are unfounded."

"Be nice," Jane hissed, only to brighten as she addressed the mall Santa. "If you'll excuse me, I just need to go check on my daughter. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

Jane made for the toy store, Loki in her wake for all of two steps, before the man in the Santa suit wrapped an hand around his arm.

"I hope you don't mind if we have a little talk before I let you go," said the Santa, and though Loki very much did mind and had already come up with about ten different ways to let the weak little man know it, the mall Santa pressed on. "I've been watching you for a long time, Loki. I don't think I've ever seen anyone climb to the top of the naughty list faster than you have."

"I do try," Loki said dryly. "And how is it that you know my name?"

"Why, because I'm Santa!" the man said, like it was the most obvious explanation there could be.

"Ah-hah…"

"I mean it, you know, you're number one on my naughty list. In fact-" the man reached his free hand into his pocket, withdrawing a sleek black slab. Loki eyed it as the man typed in a few passwords and codes.

"You use a tablet," he said, having long since familiarized himself with the primitive technologies of Jane's people.

"Just because I'm Santa doesn't mean I can't keep up with the times. Now let's see here. Looks like you're set to get coal every year until… oh my, I didn't know that was a number. Well, no matter."

He pocketed the tablet.

"What I really wanted to say is that I think you have changed quite a bit in the last few years. Becoming a husband and a father has served you well, and I'm very proud of how much you've grown as a person."

"Thank you, sir," Loki said. "Words cannot describe how thrilled I am to know that I have pleased you. Truly, my life is now complete."

"Come now, I'm serious!" the Santa said. "Yes, I see how you are with Jane and little Christina. You just restored her faith in Christmas, you know. Jane's, too. That means far more than I think you realize."

"Thank you," Loki said again, suddenly feeling very tired.

"You'll still be getting coal of course."

"Of course."

Loki stalked away from the batty man before he did something he would regret, and in place of joining his family in the toy store, he went first to get another of those chocolate drinks he'd thoroughly convinced Jane that he despised. He could drink it down fast and try to figure out what else he could give Christina, now that he'd had to use his first 'big' gift to correct his and Jane's unfortunate slight.

"By the way, Loki," the Santa called to him from the exit. "Don't worry about that fellow in the toy store. I already fixed him up for you."

Loki hummed, turning towards yet another garish holiday display and letting the insipid man's words fly right by him into the abyss where they belonged-

Wait, _the man in the store?_

Loki whirled around, but the mall Santa had vanished without a trace. Holiday shoppers came and went with war in their eyes, but there wasn't a sign of that old Saint Nick to be found. In his searching, he missed the man in the pink dress shirt and hideous candy cane tie making his approach.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Loki jolted, looking down at the man. He was even smaller than that Santa Claus had been.

"What do _you_ want?"

The man winced at his tone. "Sorry to bother you, I'm the manager of the mall, and I'm conducting random surveys of shoppers to see how they're enjoying their holiday shopping experience. You mind if I ask you a few quick questions?"

"I happen to be busy at the moment," Loki said, only for his eye to be drawn to a young couple walking arm in arm into a jewelry shop. For whatever unfathomable reason, both of them had seen fit to throw their dignity out the window and don matching red hats and coats. They could not have looked happier in their foolishness. "I will say that you have a very enthusiastic man in your role of Santa Claus this year."

"Oh, you mean Carl?" the manager said, glancing at the elaborate 'Meet Santa Claus' display. "Yeah, he's our best Santa yet. We're lucky to have him."

"No, no, not him," Loki said. "I mean your other man on staff. The shorter one."

The manager furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry? We don't have another Santa."

"What? Of course you do, I was just speaking to him."

"Sir, Carl is our only Santa Claus this year, and he's been working that chair all day."

Loki stared at him, until his intense gaze became too unnerving, and the manager bade him a hasty farewell to go and bother the next family in line for refreshments. Loki found himself watching the glass exit doors again, as if any second now, that man, with his cherry cheeks, round belly, and sparking eyes, would reappear and give him a wink. It blinded him to everyone else coming and going, including a blanched, sweaty man in a long brown coat, who staggered to the door like a drunken man, and ran screaming like an infant when Loki caught his eye.

He would still be thinking about it Christmas morning, as Jane and Christina tore into a mountain of presents, and he watched them from the living room couch, turning a thick, black lump over in his hand.


End file.
